


What's a Healthy Coping Method Anyway

by Overandout



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blow Job, Clothed Sex, Earth C, M/M, No Negotiation, Not Canon Compliant, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, background davekat, can be interpreted as dubcon, duct tape as restraint, face fucking, foot job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23257117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overandout/pseuds/Overandout
Summary: Dirk shows up at Dave's place for their regularly scheduled hang out time, but something's wrong with Dave.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Dirk Strider
Kudos: 47





	1. Avoiding Strider Angst

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what else I should tag this as.  
> Explicit rating to be earned in the next chapter

Things had been going pretty well on Earth C in the years since the game, though it had taken the first one or two for Dirk to get used to other people being around.

And, boy, were they around.

He tried to wave them off, tell them he was fine, use his projects as an excuse, but it seemed like everyone tried to drag him out of his house. Most notably Jade, who seemed to have to drag  _ everyone _ out of their respective houses before they ended up turning their attention on him.

But it was good. It was good for him. He knew it, as much as he did honestly want to be alone half the time, and they gave him his space when he seemed to really need it, and he wouldn’t trade the relationships he’s formed for anything. Especially his relationship with Dave.

How cool was Dave? Not in the ways he had always imagined. Dave was not a suave movie producer flipping off the government and making the best media humanity had ever seen. No, Dave was a dork who borrowed Dirk’s robots to get into rap battles about Obama and wrote webcomics whose humor seemed to mostly rely on inside jokes with his friends. Sometimes he even snorted when he laughed, as though that wasn’t the  ~~cutest~~ coolest thing  ~~ that made Dirk’s heart do little flips ~~ . 

But they all had their bad days.

Rose would smash empty bottles throughout her and Kanaya’s home, crying and bloody from the glass.

Roxy would lock herself in her room, afraid of the temptation of booze and juju if she left it.

Jane wouldn’t say anything, they’d only know she was going through tough times by the amount of baskets of freshly baked treats that would end up at their door.

Jake would ghost everyone, all smiles and surprise when someone showed up at whatever hole in the wall bar he decided to patronize (or in a couple of instances, work at) for the weeks he managed to fall off the grid.

And Dave…

Dirk wasn’t sure quite what happened on Dave’s bad days, because he wasn’t allowed to be there for them. They were happening more frequently, too. When Dirk looked in the mirror, he could hazard a pretty good guess as to why.

It made him want to disconnect from Dave entirely, save him the pain, but the one time he tried that, Karkat yelled at him until he went hoarse and instead started smacking him with a magazine until he went over and apologized to Dave. After that, they had a schedule. Dirk and Dave would hang out at least once a week to ensure neither of them would become too consumed by “Strider angst” (as Rose called it) to maintain their relationship.

Today was one of those dedicated days and since Karkat was hanging out with Kanaya for the week, Dirk headed over to their house to commence Strider bonding time.

There was no answer when Dirk knocked on the door, which was weird, since he had sent a text ahead of time, but he figured Dave was wrapped up in a game or writing some new tracks and didn’t hear him, so he let himself in.

The house was quiet and dim and the living room was empty.

“Dave?” Dirk called.

No response.

A little worried now, Dirk took the steps up to Dave’s room two at a time.

The door to Dave’s room was closed, and there was still no sound when Dirk knocked on the door. He was  _ definitely _ worried now. He wrestled for a moment whether he should just leave and try to hang out later, but that seemed to be the “Strider angst” talking. Something might actually be wrong with Dave and he had to be here for him if there was. Or, at least be able to call Karkat.

“Hey, dude, I’m coming in,” Dirk warned. He waited another second for a response, but when none came, he opened the door.

The room looked like it normally did, just dim like the rest of the house.

He took a few steps in and looked around. No sign of Dave. 

He was about to turn around and leave, maybe check one of the other rooms, when he felt the unfortunately familiar cold steel of a sword pressing against his neck and pushing him back until he was flush against the now closed bedroom door.

It was Dave. Eyebrows bunched together and mouth twisted in anger and pain and fear.

“You’re not as quick as you used to be, Bro,” Dave said.

“Dave, it’s me, Dirk, not--” The blade dug deeper in, cutting off Dirk’s plea.

“Or as  _ quiet _ ,” Dave hissed.

They stared at each other, or they stared at their reflections in each other’s shades, Dirk with his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

After a few moments, the blade loosened against Dirk’s throat, but did not leave it. “I know it’s you, Dirk,” Dave said.

“Then let me get Karkat, and--” Dirk was once again cut off by the sword pressing back into him, and this time he felt a dribble of blood form.

“No! I can’t keep running away, but fuck, Dirk,” the pain was winning out in his expression, “you look  _ so much like him _ !” He was breathing heavily now. Shoulders moving up and down with the effort.

He took one hand off the sword and reached it out, trembling, to Dirk. “Except…” Dave’s hand hesitated at Dirk’s throat, then he swiped at the trail of blood with his thumb. “You bleed.” Dave laughed, then cut it off with a choking sound, as if his throat closed up as soon as it realized the sound it was making.

Dirk’s heart clenched. “Dave, please.”

Dave responded by yanking Dirk’s shades off his face and tossing them into the room. “And your eyes… The only time I saw his was when he was dead. The first time I saw yours, too.” Another choked laugh. His free hand went back to his sword. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No,” Dirk said without hesitation.

Dave stared at him, or at least Dirk thought he did, the shades facing him for a long few seconds. “You’re really not, huh? But you’ll still let me do anything, won’t you? You’re letting me do this.” Dave removed the sword from Dirk’s neck and trailed it along his jawline.

Dirk shuddered involuntarily.

Dave dropped his arms. “Fuck.” He tossed the sword to the far end of his room. “Fuck, Dirk, I’m sorry.” He collapsed to his knees in front of Dirk.

Dirk had no idea how to respond, but he managed to prevent himself from freezing in shock and bent down to Dave’s level. He wrapped his arms around him and pulled him to his chest, and began stroking his hair. “It’s fine, Dave. We’re cool.”

Dave clutched to Dirk’s shirt. “It’s not, it’s really fucked up, actually. I’m really fucked up.  _ You’re _ really fucked up. Bro is… was… really fucked up.”

They sat there, just breathing for a few moments, then Dave nuzzled his face up from Dirk’s chest and into the crook of his neck.

Dirk tried to calm his breathing and ease his heart rate, but too little too late.

“Your pulse is wild, dude,” Dave said, a touch of concern in his voice. “Did I scare you? You know I would never--”

“You didn’t scare me,” Dirk said a little too quickly.

“Oh,” Dave said.

Dirk could feel Dave chewing his lip in consideration against his neck.

“You’d… really let me do anything to you, huh?”

Dirk didn’t trust himself to say anything.

Dave sat up, still clutching to Dirk’s shirt, and stared at him, while Dirk was caught between staring back and trying to not look at him at all, self conscious of where his eyes lingered now that his shades were gone.

And suddenly he didn’t have to look anywhere, because Dave was on top of him, lips crushed onto his own, painful and hungry and desperate. 

In an action that went against what every cell in his body wanted, Dirk pushed him off. “Dave, stop, what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious, dude?” Dave asked, smirking. He tried to lunge forward again, but Dirk held him at arms length.

“Seriously. You’re not thinking straight.”

Dave snorted. “You’re right, there’s nothing  _ straight _ about it.”

Dirk was unimpressed.

“Dirk… Please,” Dave begged, pain and need lacing his voice.

Dirk hesitated.

Dave grabbed one of Dirk’s hands that was holding him back and lifted it off just enough that he could twist his head and suck one of Dirk’s fingers into his mouth, twirling his tongue around the digit.

Dirk’s breath caught in his throat and his arms loosened the pressure holding Dave back.

Dave used that to regain his ground, his chest pressed against Dirk’s, his lips hovering over Dirk’s but not quite touching.

“Please,” he said again, barely above a whisper.

How could he deny Dave what he wanted, what he needed, what Dirk had been wanting for so many years? What could he do but say, “Okay.”

As soon as the word left his mouth, Dave’s lips were on him again. Tender and urgent. And he was consumed.


	2. Strider Bonding Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave knows what he wants and Dirk is all too happy to comply.

Kissing Dave was everything Dirk had ever dreamed it would be. Dave was passionate and intent and nipped at Dirk’s lips until he opened his mouth to moan and then claimed it with his tongue.

Part of Dirk still worried, agonized over whether what they were doing was right or good or healthy, then Dave took a fistful of Dirk’s hair and tugged and maybe it’s true that all the blood rushes from your brain to your dick because Dirk worried a lot less after that.

Dirk tried to reciprocate, pull Dave’s hair in response, but his hands were knocked away as soon as they reached up. When he then tried to just cling on to Dave’s arms or back, he met the same reaction, until Dave huffed into his mouth, grabbed his wrists, and pinned them to the door above his head.

This elicited another moan from Dirk, grinding his hips into Dave to get some amount of friction. Dave grinded back, sucking Dirk’s tongue into his mouth and teasing it with his own.

Dirk was panting, mouth open, practically drooling, and he whined when Dave let go of his tongue and climbed up from the floor.

Dirk made a move to stand up too, but Dave pushed him back down. “Stay.” It was a command Dirk was all too happy to obey.

Dave ruffled through some drawers and pulled out a roll of duct tape. He made his way back to where Dirk sat, ripping off a long strip with his teeth. 

Dirk didn’t resist as Dave taped his wrists against the door, though he knew he’d regret this when it was time to go. That was a thought for reasonable Dirk and right now only horny Dirk existed.

Dave stood above him, looking over his handiwork. Then he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and Dirk stared hungrily as Dave fished out his hard cock. Not the biggest Dirk had ever seen, but as beautiful as he had imagined. He tugged instinctively against his bounds, which earned him a light smack on the face.

“No,” Dave said.

Dirk was too shocked to do anything but nod.

Dave pressed a finger against Dirk’s lips and Dirk accepted it in obediently, licking and sucking on it as though it was the dick he couldn’t keep his eyes off of.

Then Dave hooked that finger down and wrenched Dirk’s jaw open wide and shoved said dick in.

Dirk was caught off guard, but quickly began massaging Dave’s dick with his tongue, trying to keep everything lubricated enough for this to go smoothly as Dave began slowly pumping in and out of his lips.

Soon enough he could feel saliva dribble out of the corners of his mouth and Dave picked up speed, pushing his cock deeper and deeper into Dirk’s mouth with every thrust.

The tip of Dave’s dick was starting to tickle the back of Dirk’s throat and Dirk did his best to swallow his gag reflex and take Dave further in. This seemed to encourage Dave because he released his hold on Dirk’s jaw and instead wound both hands in his hair, using them to help him face fuck Dirk through Dirk’s chokes and desperate breaths any time he pulled back far enough to allow it.

The pace was to a point Dirk could barely do anything on his end to help Dave along except keep his teeth out of the way, and by this point it seemed that was all Dave wanted.

He felt a mix of relief and disappointment when, before too long, Dave’s thrusts began to stutter, becoming more and more frantic.

Dave pumped into him one last time as Dirk swallowed around him and then again and again as Dave came down his throat.

He pulled his dick out before he was done coming and a few spurts splattered Dirk’s face.

Dirk barely noticed, still in a daze from the relative lack of oxygen and the intensity of the last few minutes.

Dave tucked himself back into his jeans and plopped down in front of Dirk, legs splayed out.

He must have noticed Dirk’s hips still humping the air, searching for relief, because he said, “Not enough for you, huh? Lemme fix that.”

He lazily brought one of his legs in between Dirk’s and shoved his foot up against Dirk’s crotch, rubbing it against the stiff length he could feel in Dirk’s jeans.

And that was it, with a loud cry and jerking hips, Dirk was pushed over the edge and came, soaking his boxers in a mess he would not enjoy cleaning up later.

Dave reached up and tugged the duct tape loose on Dirk’s wrists so he could free himself, then collapsed back, now fully laying on his bedroom floor. “We are so fucked up.”

“Yeah,” Dirk breathily agreed.

“We’re going to have to talk about this at some point, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Rose is going to have a  _ field day _ .” Dave laughed.

Dirk laughed, too. “Yeah. At least she can’t get onto us for not dealing with our ‘Strider angst’.”

“ _ And _ you could say we’ve upped our bonding time!”

“Is this… a regular thing, then?” Dirk asked hesitantly.

Dave waved him off. “Serious talk for later, for now, c’mere and cuddle,” Dave said, patting the floor next to him.

“On the floor?”

“On the floor.”

“In my splooge pants?”

“In your splooge pants.”

“Fine,” Dirk said, smirking.

He crawled over and wrapped his arms around Dave, pulling him close against his chest.

As much as Dirk didn’t want Dave to have any more bad days, if this is what would happen during them? Well, maybe they wouldn’t be so bad afterall.


End file.
